


day 5: family

by apocryphic



Series: mcgenji week 2016 [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, McGenji Week, Post-Recall, Pre-Recall, kind of gunmetal black verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 10:44:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8398534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocryphic/pseuds/apocryphic
Summary: A study in siblings.





	

"Hey."  

Jesse opens his eyes to see Fareeha peering down at him from the wrong way around. Her feet are near the top of his head; the sunlight's making it hard to get a clear image outside of her grin. Jesse huffs, blinks, rolls across the grass onto his front and then sits on his knees in a nearly-fluid motion. His body aches from training, muscles a tentative kind of sore that bodes ill for the next day.   

"Well, howdy," Jesse says, putting emphasis on the  _howdy_ just to see her wrinkle her nose. "Didn't know you were on-base. Your ma know you're hangin' out with me?"   

"Of course," Fareeha answers with an air that tells Jesse he shouldn't bother arguing about anything, so he doesn't. Her arm comes out from behind her back and Jesse grins, catching sight of his hat before she's dropped it into his head for him. " _Aaand_  she wanted me to give you this back."    

"Thank you kindly." Jesse tips the brim at her and she rolls her eyes with a fond smile.   

"Why'd you leave it behind anyway?" Fareeha asks, sitting next to him. "I've never seen you without it before."   

Jesse works out the knots in his shoulders with firm fingers. "Straight outta the meeting, I had to spar with Commander Reyes. Didn't wanna take my hat along."   

She snickers at him. "You lost."   

"Ain't a winner when you're trainin'," Jesse mumbles, pursing his lips, his grip finding a bruise in the process of blooming at his ribs. That'd be where Reyes had kicked him a little too hard. Jesse'd gone down like a sack of fucking potatoes and the mat had almost felt good enough to be an impromptu bed at that point, if he'd tried hard enough. The kick had been a good move on Reyes' part, but most of Reyes' moves were good ones.  

It doesn't mean Jesse has to  _like_ it, though, even if Reyes has never stopped impressing him since the day he wrenched him up out of his home.  

"Yeah, there is," Fareeha tells him, matter-of-fact-like, as if Jesse's not the one who's actually involved with Overwatch and, in fact,  _she_ knows best.  

Jesse grunts and gives up trying to get his aches and pains out to swat her way instead, no real malice in the action. "You're, what, twelve? Stop knowin' shit."   

" _Fifteen_." She swats right back with a flash of blue from the nail polish she's wearing. "My birthday's in a couple months, too —"  

"Ooh, graduating from gettin' to act like a toddler —"  

"What's  _your_ excuse?" she asks, grinning.   

Jesse slaps a hand over his chest. "Well, I  _never_ …"  

Her birthday slides on by. Jesse gets her a hat like his, but the ribbon around it is blue instead, the (closest to the same) shade that she favors for her nails. They swap their hats for a picture taken by Captain Amari, and Jesse doesn't notice until afterwards that Fareeha gave him bunny ears.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Genji —"   

"Shh! Just go with it."   

Hanzo makes a noise that sounds especially frustrated, but also like maybe he's unsure at the same time and that's  _really_ the reason he's annoyed. Not Genji's fault. He should learn to calm down a little. "I  _cannot_ 'go with it' while you keep pushing me."     

"I am  _leading_ you, brother," Genji informs him with another little shove to Hanzo's shoulders because he's a good person moving Hanzo towards good things.  

Hanzo trips because Genji's tied his scarf around his eyes and he can't see the upwards step ahead of him, stopping short before he falls forward. "Genji!"   

"We are almost there," pleads Genji, imploring, and while Hanzo stiffens, he does not argue again.  

Birds chatter lightly in the trees above them as Genji carefully keeps Hanzo from taking an accidental tumble into the grass — or worse, the  _pond_ they pass by, oh, Genji would never hear the end of that. They don't have a terribly long amount of time. The elders expect Hanzo to meet with them in a little over an hour and Genji has a  _thing_ tonight he needs to get ready for before he can get dragged into that meeting. He doesn't ever like it. He likes his family at a distance more than he ever likes them within reach.  

Hanzo almost trips for the second time, but it's only because he tries to turn back to Genji. It's funny to see his brother so out of sorts and off-balance; Genji snorts, coughs to hide it.   

"If this is for my birthday," Hanzo begins firmly. Genji doesn't allow him to finish, interrupting with a sharp, " _ah, ah!_ " and putting his hands on Hanzo's arms to turn him back around and force him to keep going.   

"It is not for anything," Genji says resolutely. "Your birthday is not until next week anyway." It was a miracle he had even gotten Hanzo to put the scarf over his eyes in the first place. Genji mentally pats himself on the back and then clicks his tongue, tosses a leg out in front of Hanzo, who stops much more immediately than he had when faced with anything  _else_ interrupting his pace. "I will take that back now," he adds, pulling the scarf from Hanzo's eyes so quickly that it leaves his brother blinking and with static in his already unfortunate hair. Genji smiles, teeth bright while he watches Hanzo pause and take it in.  

"Oh," is all Hanzo reacts with at first.  

"Too much?" Genji asks, though it is far too smug to be an honest question. He's fully aware he's done well.  

The cliffside view usually used for Hanzo to practice with his bow (he seems to take to that more readily than his sword, but Genji would never  _say_ that) is already a pretty place to spend time — and Genji has taken many a fond friend to the overlook in secret, avoidance of all the Shimada guards in the process only serving to impress — but Genji has added a very nice and equally as expensive chair beneath one of the trees that hang across the space. The shade provided is cool and comfortable. On the arm of the chair sits a sleek tablet, filled with digital copies of books that Genji knows Hanzo has not read (he's  _checked_ ); all the same, they are ones that cater to his particular interests.  

Boring interests, absolutely. Philosophy, history, politics. But still — they are Hanzo's interests, and Genji had at least checked to be sure they are ones he'd like.  

It all looks out of place among the rest of their home, the comfortable, luxurious chair and its accompanying datapad. Genji knows Hanzo is thinking hard about that. He can see Hanzo struggling to figure out how to respond, what to say.   

It is a shame, Genji thinks, that he can see his brother wrestling with an instinct to scorn it all.   

"You have an hour to enjoy it, don't you?" Genji presses, looping his scarf around his own neck. "There are things for you on the datapad, you should look at them." Genji turns on his heel, attempting to prompt Hanzo to do something more than simply  _stand_. "I have things to do, and people to see, so..."  

"Genji," Hanzo says, and pauses, and struggles more. His shoulders fall from their tense position, and though he does not look at Genji, there is sincerity in his words: "Thank you."  

The answering grin that Genji gives him practically sparkles, and Genji pats him on the back soundly before he continues on his way. "Enjoy yourself!"   

Hanzo only allows himself to sit in the chair when Genji is gone, but he stays so long that he's nearly late to the meeting.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"So Fareeha is here," Genji murmurs.  

McCree lays in the scarce grass lining Gibraltar's cliffs, using Genji's lap as an only vaguely comfortable pillow. He peers up at Genji thoughtfully, eyes narrowed against the dim rays from the setting sun; Genji plays fingers through McCree's messy strands of brown hair. 

"Sure is." McCree holds a hand up to keep the sun away, shadows falling just over his eyes. 

"I never knew her very well." 

"Wouldn't've expected you to," says McCree. He rolls his shoulders back, settles more comfortably against Genji and the ground alike. His back and muscles will kill him later, but for now, it's alright. "She wasn't 'round much by the time you got here. Had her own life to live. Ana's gotta be rollin' in her grave right about now." 

"You two were close, though." 

"Close as kin." McCree's eyes slip shut, content to enjoy the light touch continuing to move in lazy motions through his hair. "Your brother thinkin' about stickin' by us?" 

Genji hums, though his hand does not stop moving. Last McCree saw, Hanzo was sitting further up the way, as far from everyone else as he could be. When Genji answers him, his voice sounds complicated, and McCree can picture the furrow between his brows as perfectly as if he'd been looking at him. "I don't know what goes through Hanzo's mind these days, aside from despairing for himself."  

McCree clicks his tongue. "Ouch."  

"What he does is up to him," Genji finishes, though he sounds more confident. "He knows I have forgiven him. Now we can both move on, if he wants." 

Something hits McCree in the face and he startles, sitting up and blinking open his eyes in the same quick moment. The offending item is his hat; Genji's entire body oozes innocence, and while McCree would be slow to believe him in most cases, this time, he sees the guilty party who stands behind the both of them.  

"You forgot it," Fareeha tells him, smiling. 

McCree drops the hat on Genji's head instead of his own. "Much obliged, sweetpea," he drawls kindly as Genji centers the hat properly and makes a gun out of his forefinger and thumb, pretending to take aim. McCree drops into the grass again when Genji pulls the imaginary trigger, rolling, and Fareeha politely glances away as Genji leans over McCree and rests his visor against the man's forehead.  

Across the base and high above, the playful actions catch Hanzo's eye, but he only keeps his distance and returns to reading. 

**Author's Note:**

> the pre-recall bits might be a little related to gunmetal black. maybe a little. (just a bit.)


End file.
